


Five Times Matt Came in His Pants

by readythefanons



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: 5+1, Coming In Pants, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-22
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-10 17:27:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4400858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/readythefanons/pseuds/readythefanons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fill for a prompt on the daredevil kinkmeme</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Matt Came in His Pants

**Author's Note:**

> original prompt: http://daredevilkink.dreamwidth.org/3230.html?thread=6315934#cmt6315934

1  
Heather was short and stocky and in Matt’s AP Calculus class. She had an alto voice and soft, short hair, and Matt loved nothing so much as feeling the curve of her hips and the full, roundness of her butt. Well, until today. Her parents were out and they were necking on the couch, and Matt was becoming increasingly enamored with the sounds she was making in the back of her throat and the way her tongue felt sliding against his. Then she leaned into him, braced herself with a hand on Matt’s thigh, and _oh._ The fabric pulled tight and pressed against his hard cock.

Matt couldn’t help the eager sound he made, bucking his hips into her touch. She hummed happily, skated a thumb across his fly. Matt gasped, breaking the kiss to bury his face in the crook of her neck.

“Mmokay?” she asked, sounding out of it. Matt nodded and mouthed at her neck. She hummed again and went back to brushing against his fly. Matt groaned with every touch. It was maddening, some hybrid of not enough and too much. His cock was throbbing and the smell of his own arousal was getting thick in his nose. Heather turned her head, sucked at his neck. The extra point of sensation made Matt feel like he was drowning. She nipped him, lightly, and he came, shuddering and moaning.

Her hand stilled, and hesitantly she asked, “Did you...?” 

“Um. Yes,” Matt said. Any afterglow was burning away in his mortification. He pulled away from the warmth of her body and shifted awkwardly in his damp, rapidly cooling pants. 

“Oh. Well.” Heather cleared her throat. “Okay then. Um. Do you want to watch a movie or, uh, something?”

“I think I’ll just go if it’s okay,” Matt said. “Besides, I wouldn’t really be able to appreciate a movie,” he joked weakly, gesturing to his face. He heard her heartbeat, which had been settling back to resting speed, kick back up and could sense the blood rushing to her face. 

“Oh! I mean, I’m sorry. I didn’t think…” 

Matt excused himself with minimal additional awkwardness and walked home for one and a half very uncomfortable blocks.

2  
Carol was tall and thin and, according to Foggy, smokin hot. She had long hair (dyed, Matt could smell it, but he didn’t know what color) and wasn’t one for keeping her hands to herself.

“We, we’re in the _library,”_ Matt hissed, affronted but not actually surprised. She’d been telegraphing her intent so much he would have known it was coming even without enhanced senses. 

“We’re in the stacks, hun, no one else is around,” she purred. She had him pressed against the shelves. Her body was one long line of heat along his front, and one of her hands was creeping past his waistline to squeeze his ass. 

“You, you don’t know that,” Matt protested weakly. She was grinding lightly against his erection and it was fairly persuasive. _He_ was sure there was no one else around, but she couldn’t have known that. 

“That’s true,” she admitted easily. Then she added wickedly, “That’s what makes it fun.” Matt made a strangled noise in his throat. Huh. Never figured himself for an exhibitionist. He felt her mouth curve into a smile against his jaw. “Oh, you like that?” She nosed his jawline and then nipped lightly. “Someone could come down here and see us like this. See the great Matt Murdock hot and ready for it in the _library_ of all places?” Matt pressed his nails hard into his palm to keep from making any noise. He was so hard, and she had hardly even done anything yet. They were fully clothed, and in public, and instead of calming him down the humiliation of it was making heat wind tighter in his body. She breathed against his ear and he shuddered. “They could see how easy you are,” she whispered. And that—Matt came, biting his lip and rutting mindlessly against her. She made a noise, rich and satisfied, and dragged him back to her dorm room where he ate her out until his jaw ached.

3  
Whatever-the-fuck-his-name-is was shorter than Matt, but heavily muscled. His tight cotton shirt was hot under Matt’s palms, and his goatee rasped against Matt’s throat in the most delicious way. Matt was—pretty drunk. Drunker than he usually got, but Foggy had been so disconsolate after his breakup with whatever-her-name-was that Matt had cajoled Foggy into dragging him (Matt) out to a party. Friendship was complicated, and Matt kind of loved it. But the only way to get Foggy shitfaced was to get shitfaced himself, and then Foggy had gone off with freaking Marci and Matt had been—well, Matt and the booze decided a hookup of his own was a great idea.

Whatever-the-fuck-his-name-is (fuck it, Matt was calling him Vick; Vick was a good name) was _built,_ holy cow. Matt couldn’t stop running his hands over the guy’s arms, shoulders, and chest. He had only just started to assess Vick’s abs (and he had them, yes he did, wow) when Vick giggled and grabbed his wrists.

“I’m ticklish,” Vick told him, still laughing but trying to sound serious. Matt meant to pull out of his grip but got distracted by the scrape of Vick’s beard and the way the shape of Vick’s vowels probably meant Spanish was his first language. “Hope that’s not a deal breaker,” Vick joked, and Matt realized that he must have been quiet for too long. 

“Nope!” Matt and the booze said brightly. He was in that sweet spot where the alcohol dulled his senses without making him feel completely disoriented. He was pretty sure Foggy and Marci had gotten a room just upstairs, and from the sound of Foggy’s heartbeat he was happy and aroused. Matt was a good friend. 

Matt went back to kissing Vick, hoping that he could make up for his lack of coordination with enthusiasm. It seemed to be working, and Vick made a surprised noise in his throat and grabbed Matt’s hips. Matt went eagerly when Vick pulled him closer, grinding appreciatively on Vick’s thigh and continuing his appraisal of Vick’s musculature (super fucking built, A+). Part of Matt knew he should probably slow the fuck down but he couldn’t really figure out why. At any rate the press of Vick’s leg (quadricep: ten out of ten) felt really fucking good and Foggy was apparently having some sort of religious experience from how much he was invoking the name of the Lord, and Matt was coming almost before he knew it was happening. Vick made a surprised noise but Matt sssh’ed him and gave him the world’s sloppiest handjob. He said a lot of nice things about Vick’s beard and voice and muscles to make up for the sloppiness, which the guy seemed to like. Then Matt wiped his hand off on Vick’s shirt and napped outside Foggy and Marci’s door until Marci almost tripped on him coming out. Foggy dragged Matt’s ass back to their room and dumped Matt into his bed. Matt declared it to be a successful night and promptly fell asleep.

4  
Foggy was Foggy. It was after Fisk and after Marci round two and they were drinking in Matt’s apartment to celebrate a hard case well won. And Foggy was—happy and relaxed and not worried for once (and since when was Foggy a perpetual worrier? Since Matt, and didn’t that hurt) and Matt just—kissed him. They were sitting side-by-side on the couch and Matt leaned over and caught the corner of Foggy’s mouth. Foggy froze (fuck, fuck, good job, Murdock, you ruin everything) and then _grabbed_ Matt. He tangled both hands in Matt’s hair like he thought Matt was going to run away (possibly true). They kissed for a while and it was better than Matt never realized he’d been imagining, but Matt wanted more. 

He slid to his knees in front of Foggy, and when Foggy realized what Matt was doing he froze. Matt heard his heart skip and his breathing pause. 

“You sure, buddy?” Foggy asked, and Matt—honest, Matt hadn’t thought about it before, he _hadn’t,_ not really, but he was really, definitely sure he wanted this. He nodded and Foggy blew out a breath. There was a pause. “I just nodded,” Foggy said, and Matt would have laughed except Foggy’s voice was rough with arousal. Matt wanted him to sound like that always. He nodded.

Foggy’s cock was hot and hard when Matt pulled it out, and the smell of his precome made Matt’s mouth water. When he got his mouth on it and sucked, Foggy moaned his name. It was overwhelming in the best way: Foggy’s cock in his mouth and the smell of him permeating Matt’s apartment and the sound of his voice and Foggy’s hands in Matt’s hair—not pulling, not petting, just there, scratching Matt’s scalp oh-so-lightly with the pads of his fingers. Matt tried to focus on the way the wood floor felt under his knees, but he only succeeded in layering his own arousal over everything else. Matt was so hard he was throbbing and he could make out the smell of his own precome under the heady aroma of his best friend. Foggy hadn’t even touched him yet, but Matt was already more than halfway gone. Matt was pathetic for being so turned on, and the thought thrilled him. Matt sucked Foggy harder, tried to take more of him in, and rutted against air. He kind of needed Foggy to come right now.

Foggy must’ve heard his thoughts or something; his fingers tightened in his hair and he was babbling a stream of “Matt, Matt, Matty Matty Matt, I’m gonna, oh fuck, Matt you gotta pull off or something, I, Matt.” Matt did not pull off or something, and with a final, choked _Matt_ Foggy came. Matt only managed to catch some of it in his mouth; he pulled away when his own orgasm hit him (like a _fucking tidal wave_ holy cow) and the last two pumps caught him on the face. The heat of it on his skin just added to everything else, and Matt ended up slumped against Foggy’s leg, panting for breath. 

After a while, Foggy’s hand started petting Matt’s hair, and Matt stirred. 

“We should probably talk some more, but first I’m going to kiss you, okay?” Foggy said. His voice was hoarse ( _Matt_ did that to him). Matt nodded. He was kneeling on his living room floor and the front of his pants was rapidly becoming cold and disgusting, but Foggy wanted to kiss him and a man had to have priorities.

5  
Foggy was still Foggy, which meant that he was funny and likeable without trying and he was _fucking incorrigible._

Matt had tried to institute a strict “no funny business” policy at the office. (“Because it’s _unprofessional, Foggy.”_ “’Funny business?’ I’m not blowing balloon animals over here, Matt.”) Let the record show that Matt really had tried, even though “strict” apparently still allowed for holding Foggy’s elbow closer than he needed to and kissing him lightly when no one else was in the room. (Matt was only human after all.) But this was outside the limits of even a flexible no funny business policy. Matt rapidly losing track of why that was important.

“ _Ah,_ seriously, Foggy, why here?” Being breathless made it easier for Matt to keep his voice down. Foggy brushed his fingers over Matt’s nipple again and Matt made another breathy noise. Foggy was a wall of heat behind Matt, with one arm wrapped around Matt’s waist and the other one playing across his chest. Matt was leaning with his arms braced counter in office’s shitty kitchenette. 

“Why anywhere?” Foggy asked philosophically. “And the answer, my friend, is twofold.” He pinched Matt’s nipple lightly and Matt jumped. “And keep your voice down, honestly,” he chided. Matt rolled his eyes even as he ground his hips against the side of the counter. “First of all, you’re a squirmy ninja bastard and you won’t let me do this at home”—Matt felt a swell of pleasure that had nothing to do with sex at the casual admission that Matt’s apartment was home now—“even though it obviously does things for you.” Because he was pretty sure if he let Foggy go to town on his nipples they’d never make it to other, more mutual activities. “And two,” Foggy continued, “There’s something about you, in your full suit, trying to keep it together in our office that does things for me, not gonna lie.” Matt groaned.

“Now it’s doing things for me, too, _thanks Foggy,”_ he said. Fuck, Foggy had already shrugged out of his jacket, but Matt was in his full suit. The juxtaposition of his formal attire and his increasingly unkempt state (thanks, Foggy) was… intriguing. 

“You’re welcome,” Foggy said cheerfully. “And keep your voice down. Karen might be out, but we have neighbors.” 

“They wouldn’t hear me through the wall, Foggy,” Matt muttered. Foggy paused. 

“You’re sure about that?” And _oh_ Foggy’s voice had that low, thoughtful quality that did things to Matt, probably Pavlovian at this point. 

“Only if I got loud,” Matt admitted. The arm around his waist tightened.

“Then you’d better not get loud,” Foggy said. He started sucking on side of Matt’s neck as he played with Matt’s nipple, tweaking it and then rubbing circles. Matt did a pretty good job of keeping quiet until Foggy started whispering in his ear, filthy descriptions of how wanton Matt looked and all the ways Foggy wanted to take him apart. When he finally came, his lip was swollen from biting it. Foggy texted Karen that she could take the rest of the day off (thanks, Foggy), so when Karen came back it was only to pop her head in and grab some files before wishing them a good weekend. Matt only had to sit in his own come for, like, half an hour instead of the rest of the day, and then they went home together.

(+1 time they joked about it)

“Is that the Lonely Island?” Karen asked. Matt could smell that she’d bought muffins as well as coffee. He tried to concentrate on picking out all the ingredients instead of _rolling his eyes so hard they popped out of his head._

“Yep!” Foggy said cheerfully. “Blast from the past, am I right?” 

“I’ll say. I think I had my first job when that song came out,” Karen put the coffees down and approached Foggy where he had his laptop open. 

“Matt and I had just started at Landman and Zack,” Foggy said happily. The laptop continued playing: _…Plus it's your fault: you were rubbing my butt. I'm very sensitive, some would say that's a plus…_ “Matt hates it,” he added, sounding fond.

“And why are you playing it in our office today?” Karen tried to sound stern and failed spectacularly. 

“I just realized! Matt’s phone normally says the caller’s name over and over again, but if I had a special ringtone, he’d know it was me anyway.”

“You wouldn’t be embarrassed by having _that song_ be associated with you?” 

“Nah, man, the important thing is that it pisses Matt off.”

“Love you too, sweetie,” Matt interjected.

“Anyway, if I’m calling him, he’ll be the one who’s got ‘Jizz in My Pants’ as his ringtone, not me,” Foggy continued serenely. “I’m just checking to make sure it still pisses him off.” There was a pause while Karen and Foggy presumably looked at Matt to gauge his reaction.

“Well, he does look pretty annoyed…” Karen began.

“Ha ha! I knew you were great,” Foggy said. 

“ _But,_ ” Karen continued. “I know you, Foggy. You’d change his ringtone and then you’d call his cell while you were both sitting in your offices. I’m not listening to a shitty rendition of ‘Jizz in My Pants’ for the three weeks it will take you to get bored.”

“What?” Foggy sputtered.

“Thanks, Karen. I knew you were great,” Matt said, smiling. 

“…So you’ll just have to content yourself with playing it on repeat while we have our coffee,” Karen concluded serenely. And there was an argument, which Karen won (inevitable), and Foggy did as she said and did not change Matt’s ringtone, and Matt did as she said and did not beat Foggy to death with his cane. And at the end of the day they went home together and Foggy gave Matt a lovely orgasm while they were both completely naked. It was a good day.


End file.
